It was very early on when the path of my life was decided and probably earlier then the typical child. At the time, I really had no idea how the paths of life can change and change so quickly.  It was my 4th grade year of elementary school and I was very excited to have the teacher that I was going to have for the year.  My brother that was 3 years older then I had the same teacher for his 4th grade year.  I will call him Mr. A.  That’s right – Mister!  For me it was the first time that I realized that a man could be a teacher.  I had a great relationship with Mr. A and during the course of the year, from time to time; he would allow me to grade some papers or assist him in the classroom with a variety of tasks.  Whenever he wanted a volunteer for something I was sure to raise my hand.  It didn’t take long for me to realize that when I was to become an adult I wanted to be a teacher! For me, it was one of those things that I just knew for certain and it wasn’t long after that I decided I wanted to teach at the elementary level for special education. As sure as I was about what I wanted to do when I grew up is how much I was unaware of how one’s path in life could change and quickly at that. I was a typical kid that was growing up in the 70’s at the Jersey Shore in the typical home life set up of mom, dad, brother and myself.  It was a very small town in which everyone pretty much knew each other and it was customary at the time to never have a locked door on your house. It was a time period where you went outside to play, and you didn’t come back until it was time to eat dinner. Just 3 years after making my decision of wanting to be a teacher my life would change forever.  It was at the age of 12 when I was sexually abused by a trusted neighbor.  The horrific acts that took place would ravage my body and claim my innocence, purity, and the loss of childhood.  What would remain, that I would carry right into my adult life would be a fragile young man.  Even though what you would see was an exterior that portrayed that everything was ok.  That’s because this was a customized abuse. Complete with grooming and a tailored made plan that would make me feel like a willing participant that would only get into trouble if I ever spoke up.   It would last for a period of 5 years when at the age of 17 I put a stop to it by saying I could not do it any longer. It wasn’t until I was 21 that I would tell my girlfriend, (who became my wife), what had happened to me.  I was under the misconception that in doing so, I was healed from this level of abuse, but never really knew that it was abuse or that I had nothing to do with what happened to me.  It was something that I just didn’t want to speak of again and that would only lead to it sitting inside of me.  My defense mechanism was that I would just simply lead the perfect life and a home, career, and two children later, that is exactly what I did.  It was the same thing that I did in high school and it worked then.  All I had to do was excel at everything I did and nobody would ever see a flaw.  The only problem is that life gets complicated, and paths change.  For 24 years I had maneuvered in this manner and the bottom gave out in 2005 and it was then that I decided that I need to seek professional help so that I could move past this and live freely! After 5 years of therapy, and countless number of times I felt like I moved beyond my childhood, it would rear its ugly head again.  After putting my story in a book format, the reality of it all scared me to the point where I couldn’t even recognize who I was and wanted out of my life, marriage, etc. I knew I had to do something and remembered an organization that had group weekends of recovery, Malesurvivor.org.  Everything that I had done up until that moment was in preparation for what was about to happen.  In May of 2010 I attended their Weekend Of Recovery and it turned my life around.  For the first time I was witnessing and hearing all the thoughts that had been in me for nearly 30 years and the amazing power of knowing that you are not alone.  I could see the shattered look in the other men’s eyes, and it was one that I had seen in myself, but also in others that I could not place my finger on.  Regardless, I came out of that weekend for the first time really knowing that what happened to me was not my fault. With that came a drive to want to speak out knowing how many men and women suffer from the ugly and destructive affects child sexual abuse has on the victim and their families and being able to relate to that having gone through my own valiant battle. The opportunity to speak out would come 5 months later and on November 5, 2010, an episode of from the Oprah Winfrey Show aired on national television.  She did a special called “200 Men Sexually Abused” with Tyler Perry and I was one of the men profiled on the show.  It would be the first time that I publicly spoke of my abuse, and would also give details of what happened.  It was the best thing I